


Rainy With A Chance Of Apocalypse

by yukitsukihana



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Character Development, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Gen, Spoilers, do not read unless you have beaten the game, major spoilers for true ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 12:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukitsukihana/pseuds/yukitsukihana
Summary: “You shall remain here in my Velvet Room until the game reaches its completion.”So instead of Heaven or Hell, it was to be Purgatory. That seemed fair enough. “I understand.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AKA: How To Bring Akechi Goro Back To Life Using In-Game Explanations
> 
> I have a vague outline of where this is going but I don't know everything it's going to include. will update tags as it goes. and the story title, apparently.

 

The shot rang out and Goro barely had enough time to squeeze his own trigger before fire blazed through his head. Heh. He’d always been a good shot. Of course his double would be too. And wasn’t it ironic that he’d been shot in the very same place as Akira’s cognitive double?

 

Needless to say, he was very surprised to wake up. He was dead. He was sure he was dead. The dead don’t wake, do they? Ah, unless of course this was the afterlife. Goro pushed himself up, taking stock of his surroundings. The bed he’d been on was an unforgiving metal slab with a joke of a mattress on top of it. The only other fixture in the cell – and it was a cell, with chains wrapped around the door (overkill much?) – was a toilet that looked _highly_ unsanitary. Even his pristine clothes had been swapped out for a shabby prisoner uniform in very poor condition. And yet, a soft light pervaded the area, giving off a sense of safety and comfort. And for some reason, it all looked very familiar to him.

 

“Get up, inmate!” Goro jumped as something clanged very loudly against the bars of the cell door. He looked over to see…a little girl? No, two. And they looked familiar too? “I said get up!” Another slam with the…what was that? A shock stick? and the (former?) detective stood at attention, though he couldn’t help a bit of morbid amusement at the whole situation. He hadn’t expected Hell to have adorable little girls as jailers.

 

A soft chuckle brought Goro’s attention further out to the apparent center of the room. There, an old man with a nose that was far too long to be human sat at a desk. “Though you have lost your life, it is still too soon to see whether the game has been lost or not.”

 

Ah, so he was dead after all. But… “Game? What game?”

 

“You have set this world on its path to ruin, and for that, I applaud you.” Goro’s blood ran cold. “The other Trickster will have a difficult time undoing that.”

 

“I…”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Ruin? Are you saying that… That everything I’ve done…was to _destroy_ the world?” That had never been his intention! He had meant to _save_ it! Even though a few innocents had to die…

 

…Several innocents…

 

…Too many…

 

Goro sunk to the ground. He’d gotten so caught up in his powers and petty revenge scheme to see the consequences of his actions. Except… No, that wasn’t quite right. He’d realized, at the end. Akira had made him realize. He’d been a fool, and deserved penance for his actions, not forgiveness. And so he’d given his life for him. Ah, the strange man was speaking again.

 

“The world shall be destroyed and remade anew in humanity’s image. This shall be their salvation.” Salvation, huh? That was what he had thought, too, at first.

 

Wait. That sounded familiar. “…We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

 

Another chuckle. “Do you not remember our deal? You wished to save the world, and I granted you the power to do so.”

 

Goro sucked in a breath. “My Personas…”

 

The man nodded. “Indeed. One, your desire to be a hero. The other, your desire to destroy. And you, the Trickster; the Wild Card who would decide when to use these powers.” More chuckling. “You did not disappoint me, Akechi Goro.”

 

He gripped tightly at the bars on his door. He had thought he’d been saving the world by using Loki to rid it of corruption, but the man’s words… He’d been using the _wrong Persona_. And to top it all off… “This was a _game_ to you?!” he shouted, rising quickly to his feet. The girl slammed her baton into the door again, and it crackled dangerously, but he ignored it. He had realized too late that Shido had been using him while he thought _he_ had been using _Shido_. And now this man says that even his Personas were just a _game piece_? _Unforgivable_. He could feel Loki bubbling under his skin, wishing to rise forth, to destroy that man, this place…

 

…But what would be the use? He was dead. Dead after daring to not be a pawn any longer. The truth that his entire life had been a plaything of…whatever this strange man was, did not change the outcome. And even if he did manage to destroy this place, where would that leave him? Some endless black void? Or perhaps he’d truly suffer the fires of Hell. “What are you? A demon?” Had he made a literal deal with the devil?

 

The creature chuckled again, and despite the soothing tone, it was starting to grate on Goro’s nerves. “Not a demon, no. But you may think of me as a god, if you wish.”

 

Surprisingly, that did not make him feel better. He almost wished that he’d made a deal with the devil for these powers. “A god that wants to destroy the world?”

 

“Humanity wishes for its destruction, and so I will grant that wish. This shall be their salvation.”

 

He could understand the sentiment behind that. After all, that had been his own wish for so long. Ah, if only he had met Akira a year ago…

 

Akira…

 

“This other Trickster you mentioned… Is it Kurusu Akira?”

 

“Very perceptive. As expected of the Detective Prince.”

 

“Don’t call me that. I’m a sham. If you’re a god, you should know that.” Did that thing _ever_ lose that damned smirk of his? “If I’m dead, wouldn’t that mean he wins by default?”

 

“Not necessarily. The game is still ongoing.”

 

Continuing on in his absence. He really was a pawn, wasn’t he? Of course he wouldn’t be able to stand up to the King that was Akira. “What will happen to me?”

 

“You shall remain here in my Velvet Room until the game reaches its completion.”

 

So instead of Heaven or Hell, it was to be Purgatory. That seemed fair enough. “I understand.”

 

“Thus we have come to the end of our deal.”

 

* * *

 

Time flowed oddly in the Velvet Room. Or perhaps it didn’t flow at all. Or maybe it flowed normally and the lack of day/night cycles, plus the fact that he didn’t need to eat or do anything that living bodies normally required (though he still slept, for some reason), affected his perception. How many days had he been here? Months? Or perhaps it was only mere hours? There was nothing else to do but reflect on his actions, but wasn’t that the whole point of Purgatory? To self-reflect until your destination is chosen. Or something like that anyways. What was the point of that, though? He’d had his realization during the last moments of his life. He was a terrible person and only deserving of Hell. But he wouldn’t get to go there until the Apocalypse came to earth. Or unless Akira won. He hoped it would be the latter. Ah, how much bigger the universe had become now that he was dead. It made his revenge plot towards his father seem so petty in comparison.

 

He’d engaged the young twin jailers in conversation, wanting to know more about this place, but the answers had been vague. The Velvet Room’s appearance was a cognition, but also a place that had always existed, and would continue to exist. He (Akira, too) was not the first visitor to it, nor would he be the last. It was both in the Metaverse and outside of it, but was definitely not a Palace. His comparison to it had angered Caroline (it was easy to find out their names even without asking, the twins saying each other’s names so often), but he was beyond caring about retribution. Just as he was trapped inside the cell, so they were barred from entering. Her scare tactics became meaningless very quickly.

 

The way they spoke about Akira, though… Goro was jealous. So that person had even managed to touch the hearts of these supernatural beings. Perhaps that was why so many of his Personas had been existing Shadows; he’d merely adopted them. He had to admit, Akira _did_ have a strange way of attracting strays to him. Perhaps if he’d lived, Goro would have been one of them.

 

It did surprise him to find out that he, too, had the same ability to turn Shadows into Personas. He had never considered the option before, always destroying everything in his path… Heh, how very Loki of him. And now that he was dead, he would never have that option again. Such a shame. Negotiation seemed like it would be a good test of his deductive prowess. Perhaps he and Akira could have even turned it into a game; see who could gather the most Personas to their side.

 

Of course, this would never happen, but Goro was finding it difficult to think of anything _other_ than a life that could have been. A life with Akira as a friend…

 

He’d even asked about speaking to the other boy, since it was obvious he came to the Velvet Room. “The dead do not speak to the living,” had been the reply, and Goro conceded the logic behind it. That he never heard Akira arrive in this place meant that there was some barrier that prevented them from interacting. Or perhaps that was the reason why he slept; forced into a sleep to prevent interaction. He’d tried staying awake to prove his theory, but the fact that he still slept regardless, especially when he knew he did not need it, was its own proof.

 

Ah, well. That was his lot in life. Or was it his lot in death? He laughed at his own joke, morbid though it was.

 

* * *

 

 

Goro had become so used to the Velvet Room’s strange comforting ambiance that when he awoke to a cream-colored ceiling with the red tint of sunset lighting the air and the sound of rain on a glass windowpane, he was understandably confused.

 

Pushing himself up to look around, he realized with a start that this was his room. Not his cell, but his _apartment_ (was there a difference?). Everything was immaculate and in its place, save for the thin layer of dust covering all. He was even in his usual pyjamas, which were far more comfortable than that ratty prison uniform, even though he’d become accustomed to it.

 

“What’s going on…?” His phone sat next to his computer on his desk, notification light blinking, and also covered in dust. Turning it on revealed a slew of unread messages, from Shido, from his aides, from the police. The last message marked as read had been a week ago. “Am I…alive?” His hand went to his heart where he most definitely felt it beating, then to his head where… No, there was no scar there. No evidence that he’d been shot at all. “How…?” No, wait. Think. Perhaps this was all a dream. A very real dream. Even though he’d never dreamt while in the Velvet Room before. He remembered very clearly being shot in the head, and no one could survive that. Akira had only escaped that by setting up a body double, and hadn’t actually survived anything.

 

As if in response to his thoughts, there was a knock on his door. Dream or not, it would be rude not to answer it. “Ah, just a moment!” He was hardly presentable in his pyjamas, but there wasn’t enough time to get dressed, so Goro threw on a bathrobe. It would have to do. As he approached the door, he wondered if he shouldn’t have called out. If this was real and he really had been dead for a week (figure out why he wasn’t later), then Shido could have people looking for him. No, _would_. His cognitive double had flat-out admitted that Shido would kill him after Goro had eliminated everyone else. And instead of following those orders, the detective had immediately gone into Shido’s Palace. The Prime Minister-to-be would undoubtedly suspect his treachery and send someone after him.

 

Moving quietly towards the door, Goro looked through the peephole to see who it was. A young officer, someone at the precinct he often worked at. Suejima Keiichi? That sounded right. There was no distinctive bulge of a concealed weapon that he could see, and the holster was the right way around, only carrying a regulation police baton and radio, meaning that, unless he had stuck a gun into the back of his pants, Goro’s life should not be in danger. Besides, he could react quickly enough should Officer Suejima reach for a weapon.

 

Feeling confident, he opened the door and was stunned by the immense relief on the officer’s face. “Akechi-kun! Thank god you’re here. We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days!”

 

“Ah, yes?” The evidence that this was real and he was truly alive was mounting. “Sorry, I’ve been away on a case and only got back late last night,” the lie came easily, as he’d been doing nothing but lying for years. When was the last time he had told the truth? After his loss to Akira, yes, but before that, when…? “I haven’t had the time to check any of my messages.”

 

“Oh. You’ll need to be briefed, then. There’s been an incident with Shido-san.” A flutter of hope. Had the Phantom Thieves managed to steal his Treasure after all? “We’ve managed to keep things out of the press, but Prosecutor Niijima has been hounding us day and night.” Eh? “We need your assistance at the station.”

 

Ah, so he was to assist in the cover-up of what was undoubtedly Shido Masayoshi’s confession. And if Niijima was against it, then of course Goro would be brought in to help with the cover-up. But perhaps he could instead assist her… Yes, that would be the correct course of action. If he was truly alive, he would be able to right the wrongs he’d committed. All while under the guise of helping Shido. _Perfect_. “Yes, of course,” he said smoothly, putting on that smile he knew charmed everyone. “Just give me a little while to get ready.”

 

“Sure. I’ll be waiting outside.”

 

The door was shut and Goro instantly busied himself with preparing. He’d need his laptop, undoubtedly, and his notebook. A recording device would be helpful for uncovering corruption within the office… And would he need his umbrella? It sounded like rain, but the light quality may mean it wouldn’t last. No time to check the weather report, so a cursory glance out the window would have to do.

 

…Wait.

 

……Well _fuck_.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What does the weather look like to you?”
> 
> “An unpleasant rain, for one.”
> 
> Unpleasant indeed. It wasn’t raining actual blood (thank god, he’d never have been able to get it out of his clothes otherwise), but it looked close enough to it to set him on edge. “Rainy with a chance of apocalypse?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now, a description of events of THAT DAY as told from a different perspective

 

Apparently Goro had been right in thinking that he’d be in the Velvet Room until either Akira won or the Apocalypse came. He had rather hoped it would be the former, even if it would mean repenting in Hell, but it looked like it was the latter.

 

The quality of light had not been the red of sunset, but of the sun shining through red clouds and rain – was that _blood_?! Bones with desiccated flesh adorning them sprung from the ground and arched through the air, forming macabre spires and bridges. Something moving on one of the bridges caught the light and shone brightly, but it was too far away and indistinct to make out.

 

“Officer Suejima…” he called out, choosing his words carefully. “Are you _sure_ you need me in the precinct today?”

 

“Ah, we’d really appreciate your assistance with this, so the sooner the better, really,” came the reply, muffled by the closed door.

 

Expected to work even through the apocalypse. Of course. But surely that was more important than protecting a corrupt official?

 

…He _had_ confessed, hadn’t he? Goro paused as he considered the possibility that Shido _hadn’t_ confessed. That man was aware of the Metaverse’s existence. Perhaps he’d done something to stop the Phantom Thieves, or, if they had succeeded, then there were contingencies in place to keep him from confessing. He needed more details.

 

But wait, this was the _Apocalypse_. What the hell?

 

“The weather outside isn’t that great…” Goro tried again.

 

“Oh, yeah, it doesn’t look like the rain will let up anytime soon, and I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

 

 _Just_ rain? Not the literal _spires of bones_? …He needed more information. He’d have to go with the officer to obtain it. “Not to worry, I have one here.”

 

Dressed in his usual pressed suit and briefcase full of necessary items, Goro followed the officer out of the building, carefully watching his reactions. He was immensely surprised when there were none. Not even from others on the street. He stopped in horror as someone who walked past them suddenly _disappeared into black smoke_. And worse, _no one seemed to care_. And it wasn’t as if these people didn’t see their surroundings. There were smaller spires and crystalline formations that blocked pathways and even crossed into traffic, but everyone avoided them. Not only had the apocalypse arrived, but _no one cared_.

 

He stepped into the car, listening absently as the officer droned on about the case. It was surely invaluable information, but Goro was rather distracted by everything outside. More people were dissolving into clouds of inky smoke, but no one was reacting. And through the gaps in the buildings, he could make out a tower with ominous red windows, and several of those eerie bony platforms connecting to it. They reminded him of something, too, but he couldn’t quite place it…

 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Suejima said, cutting into his thoughts, “what was the case you were working on?”

 

“Ah, the Phantom Thieves.” He hoped that answer was vague enough.

 

He had not expected the bark of laughter in response. “The Phantom Thieves? Oh man, that takes me back. Can you believe people actually believed they were real?”

 

Goro’s immediate thoughts could be summed up as thus: _???????!?_ “What do you mean? They were- are real.”

 

“Oh, no, we closed that case a couple days ago. Ah, right, you weren’t here for that. Well, turns out it was just some occult belief started by a couple teenagers. It was proven that there was no connection and was just some kids taking credit for some unrelated psychological breakdowns and stuff.”

 

That…made no sense. Even Shido knew there was a connection. Goro suspected that his orders to eliminate everyone involved with the Metaverse had been because of a calling card. Goro had even given a public statement that he’d infiltrated them. How could people just forget that? “There was undeniable evidence that a group of teenagers was behind it, yes, but they were causing the breakdowns, not taking credit for them… What about their leader, who committed suicide?” Even if it hadn’t really been him, Akira’s information should still have been with the police. It had been all over the news, broadcasted on every station, just as planned.

 

“Oh yeah, that kid. Well, he had a previous record, so maybe he just didn’t want to go to jail.” The officer’s twisted logic made a strange sort of sense. Perhaps Shido and his group had planned this on their own. Destroy the Phantom Thieves not only in the real sense, but the public’s idea of them. People might care about kids getting killed off if they suspected they were the Thieves, but if they were just teenagers caught in a series of tragic accidents…

 

Goro tried to quell the nausea he felt. He had helped plan for some of that himself, just a few hours before he’d died. Now, he couldn’t even stomach the thought of murdering those he’d wanted to be friends with. But maybe being forgotten would be the best option, as the group had promised to disband. Niijima’s was to be the last one, but he could forgive a broken promise if it meant Shido would face retribution. He debated calling Akira, but using the other boy’s name may arouse suspicion with the officer. But how would the Phantom Thieves’ Leader react to receiving a text from a dead man? And what would he even say? It would have to be something that grabbed his attention. Coming to a decision, Goro turned on his phone to send a message to Akira.

 

…Or he would have, had he been in his contacts list. Strange, he hadn’t deleted any of the Thieves’ contact information; it was valuable evidence. But looking through his lists again, _none_ of them were in there. Prosecutor Niijima’s still was, thankfully, but her little sister’s number was not. Even the chat logs were gone. Though Goro thought that it would be best to delete them _now_ , he had thought the exact opposite just last week – had it really only been a week? Thankfully, he had their numbers memorized, so it was easy to type up a simple message to send to Akira.

 

_We need to talk = >_

_Error: This number does not exist._

 

What?!

 

He tried to type in another message, only for the same error message to pop up. Maybe Akira had changed his number? It would make sense if he was in hiding and pretending to be dead. Oracle would know how to get in contact with him, though. He sent the same message to her.

 

_Error: This number does not exist._

 

No way. He was sure he’d typed it in correctly. Maybe he’d gotten a digit wrong? Ah, but the younger Niijima’s he knew, surely.

 

_Error: This number does not exist._

 

A chilling thought crossed his mind as he looked out at the apocalyptic scenery once more, and Goro brought up the PhanSite. The poll tracker was at the top, with the live chatbox just underneath.

 

_Do the Phantom Thieves **really exist**?_

_[                                              ]Yes **0.0%**_

 

The chat was filled with comments on how it was just a hoax, that everything was pointless, that the admin should take this site down already…

 

“Mementos…”

 

“Hm?”

 

Goro started. He had almost forgotten about the officer’s presence. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud.”

 

That was what the scenery reminded him of. Though he had only been there with the Thieves once, the deeper they had gone, the more organic the place had become. Walls had gone from concrete to something resembling muscle and bone. And they hadn’t even reached the bottom. Looking at the patterns of Mementos, it would be logical to assume that the protrusions outside would be from an even deeper part, perhaps even the depths. And if Mementos was encroaching on the real world… People were disappearing into smoke because no one noticed them. If people didn’t believe there was someone there, then there wouldn’t be.

 

And if people didn’t believe the Phantom Thieves existed…

 

The patrol car rolled to a stop at a light and Goro wasted no time in flipping the lock open and stepping out.

 

“Ah, hey! Akechi-kun?!”

 

“Sorry, I just remembered something that requires my immediate attention. I’ll be at the station later!” He didn’t give the car a second look as he dove into the crowded Tokyo sidewalks, bringing up Prosecutor Niijima’s contact information and looking for a relatively out-of-the-way place to make a call. He hit the Call button just as he spotted an alcove and made his way over.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Niijima-san? It’s Akechi Go-”

 

“Akechi-kun?!” Ah, shock. The Phantom Thieves had most likely told her about his death in Shido’s Palace. He’d suspected she’d been working with them ever since he had realized the trick with the phone, but there had hardly been time to get confirmation.

 

“I’ll explain later.” And boy did he have a disturbing theory as to exactly _how_ he was alive, but there were far more important things now. The Apocalypse, for one. “Have you been able to get in touch with your sister?”

 

“Makoto? Why?”

 

“Their contact information no longer exists and while I have a theory, I hope I am _very_ wrong about it.”

 

There was a brief moment of silence, punctuated by the sound of tapping. Sae was undoubtedly bringing up Makoto’s information, and Goro hoped that he only had outdated information. “Why is she not…?” His heart fell. “Sorry, Akechi-kun. I’m going to try to call her now.”

 

“Ah, before you do, I have another question.”

 

“Yes?”

 

He licked his lips. Time to put his theory of her involvement to the test. “Did any of them happen to mention if they were going to a place called ‘Mementos’?”

 

An intake of breath was all the confirmation he needed. “How do you-?”

 

“Nevermind for now. And, sorry, but I have one last question.” There was silence, and he took that as permission to continue. “What does the weather look like to you?”

 

More silence, then her answer came slowly, as if she was testing the waters herself. “An unpleasant rain, for one.”

 

Unpleasant indeed. It wasn’t raining actual blood (thank god, he’d never have been able to get it out of his clothes otherwise), but it looked close enough to it to set him on edge. “Rainy with a chance of apocalypse?” It was a poor joke, but it begged to be made.

 

“You can see it too?!” There was relief in her words. She, too, had likely noticed that no one else seemed to really see their surroundings.

 

“Niijima-san, I am perfectly aware of the fact that I am supposed to be dead, and not like Kurusu-kun is supposed to be dead. And the dead do not usually go walking about unless there is something very, _very_ wrong. Now please, try to get in touch with your sister and Kurusu-kun.” Though he held no hope that she’d have any luck.

 

“What are you planning?”

 

“I’m going to see if there’s anything I can do to stop this.” He hung up with her without waiting for a reply – one wasn’t needed – and looked up at the looming tower surrounded by other buildings that were slowly taking on the distorted appearance of the tower. Hm, perhaps he should have remained in Suejima’s car and had him drive to that building. Wherever it was.

 

Where even was _he_?

 

He pulled out his phone again to check the GPS and paused as he stared at the home screen. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the Meta-Nav app was open and running. He tapped it again to bring up more information.

 

_Mementos} Area: Qliphoth_

 

Ah, so he’d been right. Mementos and the real world were slowly fusing into one. So this was the ‘ruin’ that the Velvet Room’s master had spoken about. But none of this looked like any sort of ‘salvation.’ And he’d helped to create this? If only he could turn back time…

 

But that wasn’t an option. And even though he couldn’t change the past, he still had a second chance. And if Akira had indeed lost the game, Goro would be _damned_ if he simply gave up now. He’d fix this, one way or the other.

 

* * *

 

 

Reaching the Mementos Tower took a lot longer than he’d predicted, and Goro was fairly winded by the time he reached it. There were some days he really hated being perceptive and knowing so much. This new world was running off of cognition, he knew that, but he couldn’t help the subconscious thought that he _should_ be exhausted after running so far, and so he was. At least he knew where he was now. The tower had taken the place of Shibuya’s infamous 109 Building (and a large portion of the surrounding buildings and streets), but unlike the real building, this one seemed to have no entrance. There were several connecting bone walkways further up, though, so perhaps he’d be able to get in that way?

 

As he began to deduce which bridge was closest to him, an explosion distracted him. He looked up just in time to see a few more like explosions go off. That was…Freidyne? No, there had been several of them. _Ma_ freidyne? His heart leapt to his chest. Akira and Makoto could both use that skill. Were they alive? He pulled out his phone to send a quick text. It was rather unprofessional and had the air of desperation, but Goro didn’t care.

 

_Are you back? = >_

 

He waited several moments, but there was no reply. Not even an error message. Akira’s contact information was still missing from his phone, but at least the number existed. A quick check to the PhanSite revealed the poll numbers to still be at 0.0%. There was no belief in them, so how…?

 

Heh. Trust a Trickster to break all expectations.

 

A large commotion arose from the direction of the Scramble, drawing Goro’s attention. People were screaming. Well, that wouldn’t do, would it? His legs were protesting further use, but if he ignored it hard enough, the exhaustion would go away. That was what sort of world this was now.

 

The trouble was ignoring it in the first place.

 

Thankfully, the Scramble wasn’t that far away, but the commotion grew larger. As more people panicked, more became cognizant of their surroundings, and – finally – the fact that people were _disappearing_.

 

“Ah, it’s Akechi Goro-kun!” someone pointed out, and instantly a large portion of the crowd turned to him. Though Goro had worked hard to become recognized, such recognition led to occasional accosting on the street, which he very much did not like. But at the moment, avoiding the public eye led to a fate worse than death, so he withstood the bombardment of questions and pleas.

 

He was rather shocked, though. Did the public actually think that he could save them…?

 

Stupid question. If that’s what they truly thought, then he would have that power. He couldn’t help the euphoric feeling building in his chest. He had worked so hard to gain approval… He never wanted to be a nobody, so he had created fake cases to solve, and become popular. And people loved him for it. He had thought them all foolish, as the only recognition he desired had been his father’s. Now, he couldn’t care less what that man thought of him. And even though he had been a fake, the people had been fooled into thinking he was legitimate, and that was enough for them. It made all the difference now, here, in this world ruled by cognition.

 

And he could truly help them. He _wanted_ to help them. He’d be the hero he’d always strived to be.

 

His voice seemed to hold more power, even though he spoke gently, and it carried further, those near him growing quiet. “Calm down. Panicking does nothing. Take stock of your surroundings, _look_ at the people next to you, talk to them, get to know them. Names, hobbies; anything and everything.” If they realized that the person next to them was _real_ , people would stop disappearing. And though there was confusion at first, Goro noticed a sharp drop in disappearances once they began to obey. And the people seemed to notice, too. Those on the fringes would grab others, passing the information along, and the crowd grew. Maybe Goro wouldn’t be able to join the Phantom Thieves on their path to the tower, but he could at least help those down here.

 

And then the earthquake hit.

 

There was more screaming as people clung to each other (good, he thought, don’t ignore each other, not now), but then someone pointed up at the tower. It was crumbling. Goro felt a surge of hope. Had Akira managed to defeat whatever was causing this? Destroying the tower would surely-

 

Two large wings unfurled from the wreckage, and clouds began to gather around the being, obscuring all but its legs, which were floating off the ground where the tower had once been. A hush had fallen over the crowd, not that anything could have possibly drowned out the voice that permeated air and bone.

 

Goro stilled. He _knew_ that voice. The Master of the Velvet Room that had used him as a pawn. And now it was calling itself a god and speaking about humanity’s destruction. He could have laughed. Saving humanity by destroying them? Even _he_ hadn’t thought that. He had simply thought that eliminating some people was necessary, but wiping out an entire _species_ and calling it _salvation_? The idea was _laughable_.

 

There was mounting panic in the streets now, but Goro knew that he wouldn’t be able to control it this time. No one was listening to him anymore. Who could win against a god? Many screamed and fled. Some pulled out their phones, likely to contact loved ones in what they thought was their final moments. And yet more remained in place, solemnly accepting their fate.

 

And yet, as the sounds of battle raged above the clouds, there was a small group that cheered on whoever was fighting. Goro knew it was the Phantom Thieves, but still no one believed they existed, so how to get that knowledge out…?

 

Ahh, how he wished he could join them in the battle, but Personas could not grant one the ability of flight, and the bridge leading upwards had been destroyed along with the tower.

 

…Would he even be welcomed…?

 

He sincerely doubted it. Akira might have, but the others… They’d chase him off, afraid for their Leader’s life, surely.

 

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Even if he couldn’t join them, he could still help them from down here. Everything was cognition, so if people knew, if people _believed_ , then surely Akira and his group would win.

 

His voice would no longer carry. No one was looking to him for guidance anymore. He might have been Akechi Goro, Second Coming of the Detective Prince, but who was he compared to a god, and those actively fighting it?

 

Still…

 

“You can’t give up hope!” His voice cracked as he yelled, trying to be heard over the screams that were mounting once more. “That god is no more powerful than we believe him to be! He can and _will_ be defeated!”

 

…But no one was listening anymore. Police vehicles had pulled up to try to contain the panicking crowd, but to no avail. They were looking to the authority for help, which Goro was not a part of. How many times had he stated that he worked with the police, but was not one of them? Just like that, he was no longer a hero. Well, he supposed he was used to disappointments by now.

 

The sounds of battle suddenly died off with a large explosion, and Yaldabaoth’s voice resounding through the air made it clear who the winner was. Goro’s heart fell, and he noticed those around him adopting similar expressions. Had it been hopeless after all? Akira might have been more powerful than him, but he was still mortal. A handful of unknown mortals, up against the might of a being the collective unconsciousness (and consciousness, now) had deemed a god. And he, no longer a hero of the people, but just another victim, would be even more powerless in their eyes.

 

“We’ll definitely…definitely…take this world!”

 

Morgana…? His eyes were drawn to the large video screens that surrounded the Scramble, no longer showing incongruous weather bulletins and anime trailers, but a fuzzy image of what was undoubtedly the logo of the Phantom Thieves. How…? Was Oracle responsible for this? Out of all of them, she had understood the inner workings of the Metaverse more quickly than any of them, likely due to her mother’s research. She would have reached the same conclusion Goro had come to: they couldn’t do this without the support of the people.

 

But as he listened to the voices of those around him, his hopes fell further. Even though the logo had sparked some recognition, the people still despaired. Belief that they existed would not be enough; there had to be belief that they would _win_. But how to do that? Especially as no one would listen to him…

 

A lone voice punctuated the soft cries of despair, and Goro gave a start. He craned his head to try to get a look at who was the singular brave soul that believed _so desperately_ in the Phantom Thieves, but his view was blocked by the crowd. As the voice continued, Goro shook his head, amused at his own despondency. Had he really been so quick to give up on Akira? The atmosphere was affecting him, surely. But still, no one was responding to the impromptu pep-talk. Uncertainty lingered. Well, he’d have to do something very drastic, wouldn’t he? Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted his support back through the crowd.

 

The response was instant. Soon, everyone was joining in, crying out for the Phantom Thieves. Goro felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, hoping no one realized their beloved Detective Prince was cheering for the same group he’d helped to arrest, and even drove the leader to suicide (so the reports had said).

 

Ah. He should probably escape before anyone realized that fact.

 

He turned away to head towards the station, PhanSite open on his phone. The numbers on the poll were ticking up rapidly. The crowd at Shibuya was large, but in comparison to the total population of Tokyo, was barely a dent. Oracle must have hacked into several different broadcasting networks, but such a thing would be child’s play for her.

 

There was a sudden clap of thunder and a shift in the commotion. Goro turned to look, and his mouth dropped open. The clouds had cleared, giving an unblocked view to the entirety of Yaldabaoth and… Was that a _Persona_? It was _huge_! And the crowd _loved_ it. Yaldabaoth was speaking again, but this time, the false god’s voice was drowned out. Oh, how the tides had turned. The immense Persona (Akira’s, it had to be Akira’s) raised a massive gun, and with one final blast, put a hole through Yaldabaoth’s head.

 

And time stopped.

 

It took Goro a few moments to realize, but the silence wasn’t caused by awe. No one was moving. No one was _breathing_. The wind didn’t blow. Everything was completely and utterly still, save for the rain that continued to fall. It began to collect, too, and rather quickly, though Goro couldn’t understand the physics of it. Then again, time had never stopped before. At least it was dry in the train station, and though it continued to pool outside, it never seemed to reach beyond the threshold of the station. He made his way down the stairs, past those frozen in mid-step. Time would undoubtedly start again, and he wanted to get a good spot on the train before it did. Or, he amended to himself as the world began to glow and dissolve, he’d be dragged back to whatever afterlife awaited him. As the world continued to fade to white, he wondered if it would be the latter. The apocalypse had ended; the threat destroyed. He had been revived through the power of cognition, but now the world that had made that possible was collapsing.

 

As the world slowly faded to white, Goro took a seat on the train, waiting to be taken to his destination, wherever that may be. At least he got to see Akira take down the being that dared to make playthings out of them. Not a bad way to spend his final day on earth.

 

* * *

 

 

Akira sighed as he walked away from Sae. Tomorrow, his life would be as good as forfeit. How ironic that he’d managed to defeat a god, yet was still to be punished by humans. Well, if it would keep his friends safe…

 

Oh yeah, speaking of, his phone had buzzed when they’d been fighting the archangels. Probably Mishima wondering what the hell was going on. He opened the chat, prepared to assure his friend, and stared.

 

“…Akechi?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this turned out to be three times as long as I expected and I still have the epilogue to do
> 
> Akechi was not alive for the Shido calling card announcement so he has NO IDEA. Futaba has much to show him
> 
>  
> 
> NEXT: IS AKECHI ALIVE OR IS HE NOT  
> HINT: THE TAG TELLS ALL


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Get up, inmate. You have a visitor.”
> 
> “…Akechi?”

 

“Get up, inmate. You have a visitor.”

 

Akira was _really_ starting to miss Caroline. Her calling him ‘inmate’ had eventually sounded almost _endearing_. It just didn’t sound right coming from anyone else, especially not a forty-something-year-old dude. He glanced up at the calendar taped to the wall. Hmm, probably Sae’s usual weekly visit. She often came on Friday afternoons to give him a weekly update on the status of the case, but each visit had been the same: still gathering evidence, working on a court date, refusing to settle out of… How his friends were doing, how was he doing, did he have any messages to pass on, et cetera et cetera ad infinitum _boring_. Not that he didn’t appreciate the visits; she was the only one allowed, since it was too dangerous for any of his friends to come. He just wished there was something _new_.

 

As he stepped into the visitor’s room, he prepared himself for another hour of disappointing non-news, already coming up with responses to questions he knew she’d ask.

 

But as he saw who exactly was on the other side of the glass, all thoughts fled from him.

 

“…Akechi?”

 

The brunette smiled, and though it looked so much like his usual fake smile, there was an edge to it that made it seem a little more _real_. “Good afternoon, Kurusu-kun. It’s been a while.”

 

Akechi motioned for him to sit (only seating himself after Akira did so – he was still just as infuriatingly polite as he remembered), and Akira could only follow, numbly. “…You didn’t text back.” Wow what a great start to this conversation. Stupid. He probably should have asked something else, like _how the hell was he alive_.

 

He was drawn from his inner scolding by a bark of laughter. Unexpected, and genuinely _him_ , not that fakey-fake laugh he had on TV. “We haven’t seen each other in months, and that’s the first thing you say?” Wow, way to point out what he had just been thinking, thanks Akechi. “I do apologize for that. Work at the precinct kept me very busy, and when I finally had time to reply, you had already been arrested. You know, you should have deleted your chat logs before turning yourself in. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get a hold of your phone after it was confiscated? For someone who turned themselves in to keep their friends safe, it would have been a good idea to get rid of everything that _implicated_ them.”

 

Akira ducked his head in embarrassment. He’d been too caught up with pretending things were normal, and then he’d gotten distracted… No, those were excuses. “I…forgot.”

 

A sigh. “Honestly, Kurusu-kun. I’d warn you to be more careful next time, but if everything goes as planned, there won’t _be_ a next time.”

 

“Hey, Akechi? Why are you here?”

 

“Hm? Oh, that. Niijima-san’s very busy today, and I finally had some free time, so I offered to go in her place. There’s a lot for us to catch up on, too.”

 

He’d been working with Sae? Wait, no, that wasn’t the answer he was looking for (though he’d definitely ask about that later). “Not what I meant. _How_ are you here?”

 

Akechi chuckled. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out already, considering. But I suppose it’s still a bit strange. The short answer would be ‘Mementos.’” Akira’s eyes widened, and Goro smiled at the dawning realization. Kurusu-kun was very intelligent; it hadn’t taken much to spur his memory.

 

But then Akira frowned and sat back, bringing a hand up to his mouth in his usual thinking pose. “Wait, that still doesn’t really make sense.”

 

Goro sighed. Maybe he’d hoped for too much? “As I died in Shido’s Palace, there was no body left behind. No proof. To the public, I wasn’t dead, merely absent. When Mementos manifested, that belief became reality, and I returned from my…‘absence.’ Just as you and the rest of the Phantom Thieves disappeared.”

 

“How do you-?”

 

“I tried to get in touch with you, and the others, but you had vanished from the face of the earth. With belief of your existence at zero, what other conclusion is there? What I’m curious about is how did you suddenly start existing again when there was still no belief in you?”

 

Akira thought about the question and eventually shrugged. It really didn’t make sense. “Didn’t want to die,” he answered truthfully.

 

Akechi just stared at him, disbelieving, then shook his head. “Of _course_ you would make it that simple…”

 

“Yeah, guess it is.” Akira leaned back in his chair, looking the detective over. “There’s still one thing I don’t get. Yeah, people might have thought you were still alive, but you _died_. Why was it _you_ and not some cognitive double imagined up by the public?”

 

Goro blinked. That was…actually a good question, and one he’d been trying to find an answer to himself. With how real Shido’s cognition of him had been (he’d been killed by it, after all), and the fact that the public would only know his sweet, friendly face and not any of the darkness that lurked underneath, it made just as much sense as Akira’s return. “Perhaps the usual rules don’t apply to Tricksters?” he ventured. “Or perhaps the answer is far more metaphysical and has to do with the strength of our soul, but that is outside even my expertise.”

 

“Amazing. Something the great detective Akechi Goro _doesn’t_ know.” The tone was flat, but the smirk teasing, and Akechi flushed.

 

“Oh shut up. You don’t know either.”

 

Akira’s smirk turned into a grin. He’d flustered him. _Excellent_. “Yeah but at least I readily admit it,” he teased again, and was that a _pout_? Was Akechi Goro _pouting_? This was too great.

 

“Speaking of Tricksters,” Akechi began, clearing his throat. Akira would be kind and let him escape. For now. “That giant Persona… What _was_ that?”

 

“Oh, that was Satanael.” Akechi was making a confused face, and Akira supposed that wasn’t a good enough explanation. “So, once you get to a certain, hmm, how to describe it… A certain level of acceptance with yourself, I guess? A Persona evolves. It happened to Ryuji, Ann, and Yusuke before you joined, and the others after,” he motioned vaguely, “all that. ‘Cause of the multiple Personas thing, I hadn’t even considered that Arsene could do the same until… Well, I guess you saw the outcome. He’s probably not that big normally, but there was all that cheering, and it felt like he was _overflowing_ with power… Not that I can check anymore.”

 

“Yes, now that the Metaverse is no more.”

 

Akira eyed him. “You know about that?”

 

“Of course. The Meta-Nav app is gone from my phone, as well as yours. It’s the obvious conclusion.” It looked as though Akechi wasn’t saying everything, but he decided not to press him, not yet. “But have you not been able to summon him in the Velvet Room?”

 

Akira sat up straight so suddenly, he was sure he pulled something. “The Velvet- You know about that place?”

 

“Yes. I was essentially held captive there for the duration of my death. It likely has something to do with why I am here now. A mistake on Yaldabaoth’s part.”

 

“I never realized…” If he had known Akechi was there…

 

“There were forces beyond our control – at the time – preventing us from interacting. The twins are rather charming; they had much to say about you. Ah, but I suppose they are a single person now.”

 

Akira could only stare. How did he know about Lavenza? With everything Akechi said, the detective had left the room at the same time he’d arrived, maybe even a little before. “But…that room is gone?” It was gone, wasn’t it? Igor and Lavenza had disappeared, along with the room.

 

Akechi just looked at him in confusion, before an expression of realization settled over his features. “Ah. I wonder if there is no need for you to be there any longer. You saved the world, after all. Defeated a false god. I suppose the next question is, why is there a need for _me_ to be there? Especially as there is no more use for Personas.”

 

Akira considered the question, too. Akechi had likely meant it to be rhetorical, but it was a legit question. Maybe the other boy was still feeling trapped. Maybe… “Maybe you need to evolve your Persona. Personas. Plural.”

 

“Evolve my…? Aha. Perhaps so. Be true to myself, you said? I thought I had been, but I suppose my current situation is making it a bit difficult. I’m a sort of double agent at the moment, you see.”

 

Akechi was smiling broadly, but Akira was confused at that statement. “Double…agent?”

 

“Oh!” The detective leaned towards the glass conspiratorially, and Akira couldn’t help leaning in himself. “Shido’s followers still think I’m one of them, so they’ve enlisted me to stop Niijima-san from obtaining evidence, but I’ve been secretly passing on as much information as I can to her. In fact, the reason she’s unable to come today is because we’re finally setting a court date. And they have _no idea_ that _I’m_ the leak!” That was a giggle. That had definitely been a giggle. Who knew that the great detective Akechi Goro could _giggle_.

 

“Loki really fits you as your Persona, huh?” Akira had meant it to be a joke, but instead, Akechi pulled back, paling a little. Damn, he hadn’t meant to ruin the mood that much.

 

“I much rather think that Robin Hood suits me better,” he said stiffly. Akira could feel the distance between them widening rapidly. Shit, he had to fix this.

 

“Taking from the rich and powerful to help those in need? Yeah, that’s perfect for a hero like you.” Ah, good, he’d relaxed a bit at that. Akechi really did want to be the hero all along, didn’t he? “But we’re also both _Tricksters_. And what better trickster is there than Loki?”

 

The stiffness returned, but there was confusion in Akechi’s eyes as well. Good, he had his attention. “Loki is… He corrupts and destroys. In Norse mythology, he’s the one who begins Ragnarok. And that’s what I did…” The last part was said so quietly, Akira had to lean in again to hear him. “I brought Ragnarok – the Apocalypse – to Earth. It’s my fault.”

 

Akira shook his head. “It’s _not_ your fault. You were being used by Yaldabaoth. We both were. He’d rigged the game in his favor anyway. That we were _both_ able to come out alive and on top, it’s because we’re Tricksters. And besides. Destruction really isn’t Loki’s thing. Not in mythology, and I’ll wager not for your Persona either.” More confusion from the other boy, but he was listening. “Loki’s whole deal is _change_. That’s the role of the Trickster as well. We bring change. Yaldabaoth just twisted that to his own benefit. And with how much control he had over people’s Shadows… I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one who ruined both our lives just so he could turn us into his little game pieces.”

 

Goro gripped at his slacks, the fabric bunching in his fists. He hadn’t considered that, but it too made sense. Akira was great at making leaps of logic like that; he always had been. Goro was envious. Akira would make a better detective than him. “We’re not slaves to his whim anymore,” he growled under his breath, but somehow, Akira had still heard him.

 

“Yeah, exactly. He’s not around anymore, so now we’re the masters of our _own_ destiny. So Loki, that part of you, doesn’t have to destroy things or be the villain anymore. He can just be the part of you that’s a total spy thriller nerd.”

 

Goro stared. Then he began to chuckle. Soon, it was a full-blown laugh, drawing the attention of the guard, who looked confused, and that made this whole situation _more_ hilarious. “A ‘spy thriller…’ Only you could say something so profound one moment, then so _idiotic_ the next.” He wiped a tear from his eye, hoping that it was merely from laughter and not from…anything else.

 

“Hey! I’ve got a while to go before I reach Ryuji levels, okay? Though I can feel this place totally sapping away my knowledge skills. Akechiiii, get me outta here before I turn into another Ryuji, okay?”

 

“Oh dear god, I hope we’ll be able to rescue you before that happens. One Sakamoto is more than enough.”

 

“Oh hey, speaking of, have you gotten in touch with any of them?”

 

Oops, the stiffness was back. “Ah, no. I…am not sure they’d be too happy to see me. I did attempt to kill you, after all. And then I _died_ …”

 

“If you’re gonna be testifying at Shido’s hearing, then they’ll definitely see you alive and well there. Well, at least Futaba and Makoto will. I don’t know if the others would sit in. That Makoto doesn’t know, with you working with her _sister_ , is amazing.” He shrugged. “Well, I guess that sort of reveal would be more dramatic than simply showing up at Leblanc’s and going ‘honey, I’m home!’”

 

Akechi snorted in a desperate attempt to stifle another laugh, which only made him sound _more_ ridiculous. “I suppose having a flair for the dramatic is a requirement of a Phantom Thief.”

 

“Damn right it is.” The grin on his face died down as he saw the guard approaching. Their hour was up already, huh? “Hey, you’ll visit again, right? It’s nice to talk to a friend and not just get an update from Sae every week.”

 

“Friend, huh?” Akechi mused, a smile creeping its way onto his face. Akira hoped he’d see many more of those genuine smiles. They suited him. “Of course. I’ll be back sometime next week, schedule permitting.”

 

“Looking forward to it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Goro pulled out his scarf from his pocket and wrapped it around him, attempting to stave off the chill of the cold January day.

 

“How was he?” a voice called from his left, and Goro turned to address the speaker.

 

“He’s lost some weight. I suppose prison food is hardly nutritious. Perhaps I should make a complaint. While I understand budget issues, the prisons are supposed to care for and provide rehabilitation for their inmates, all of which are minors. Why, not providing them adequate nutrition is tantamount to child abuse!”

 

There was a snort of amusement. “Trust you to think about it in legalese.”

 

“It’s not…legalese…” he protested weakly.

 

“Sure it isn’t. But hey, anything else? How’d he react? You didn’t tell him about me, did you?”

 

“He was surprised, but the fact that I exist in the first place is rather surprising. And of course I didn’t tell him. I made you a promise, after all. He might begin to suspect, since I revealed myself, but you can still make your dramatic revival, don’t worry.”

 

“Oh yeah, that prosecutor’s gonna give us a date tonight, right? Heehee, I should start planning…”

 

“Simplest would be best. Just walk through the door like you belong there.”

 

“Hey, I _do_ belong there! I’m just waiting for the right time to go back. Hmm, what do you think about the day of Akira’s release?”

 

“Two dramatic reveals in one day? It sounds perfect.”

 

“Why not three? What about you?”

 

“Mine will be whenever the trial is. I expect Sakura-kun and Niijima to attempt to contact me. Ah, should I get a burner phone, do you think?”

 

“Naah, just tell them you want to surprise the others. They can keep a secret if asked, believe me.”

 

“That is true enough. Then that will be my course of action.”

 

“Great. Hey, I’m hungry, can we get sushi? To celebrate _your_ revival, of course.”

 

“Any excuse for sushi, hm? Very well, I think we both deserve it.”

 

“Yaay!” There was a weight on his shoulder and Goro adjusted his scarf to let the black and white cat bury himself underneath it. “Sushi, sushi!”

 

He couldn’t help but smile at the cat. Morgana’s existence was just as unprecedented as his, and he didn’t have the excuse of being a Trickster. ‘There’s a place I belong,’ had been his reasoning, and Goro wondered now if that might be true for him, too. It was a wonderful feeling, having friends…

 

“Hey can we go to Akasaka this time? I heard some great reviews about it!”

 

* * *

 

 

The familiar blue of the Velvet Room greeted Goro as he opened his eyes. He’d grown to enjoy this place after the true master – Igor – had returned. Lavenza was also a joy to talk to, and it was fun to see which parts of her were Justine, which were Caroline, and which were uniquely hers.

 

“You spoke to the other Trickster today,” Igor said by way of greeting.

 

Goro nodded. “The Velvet Room is closed to him?”

 

“Indeed. He has no more need of our guidance. Our part in his story is over.”

 

“But it’s not the same for me.” It wasn’t a question, and he wasn’t surprised when silence greeted him.

 

“Have you learned something?” Lavenza finally asked.

 

“A story, is it…? That’s a much better way to refer to it.” Much better than calling it a game. Ah, but the game had ended, hadn’t it? And yet his story was continuing. He ran his hand down the bars of his door. If Akira no longer needed the Velvet Room, did that mean he had left his cell? Was it possible to leave? This place was just as much cognition as the Metaverse, and he’d never attempted before, always assuming that it would be locked. It had withstood his weight before, as if it had been, but that was still cognition, wasn’t it?

 

He pushed at the door where the lock was, and was unsurprised when the chains fell away and it opened without resistance. Of course it would. His cognition had changed. And Lavenza was smiling at him.

 

Robin Hood was brought forth with a thought, and Goro looked up at him. The hero of the common folk, the person he’d always strived to be. And the other…

 

“Be true to myself,” he whispered, and summoned Loki. After Yaldabaoth’s defeat, Goro had been denying Loki, working hard to make his Robin Hood aspect the dominant one, hoping that, if he tried hard enough, Loki would disappear. But that wasn’t true, was it? Even if the Metaverse was gone and he could no longer summon Persona, Loki would still be there, under his skin, waiting to rise up. He had a dark side, much as he regretted it. He’d killed, and it seemed unfair that he would be escaping Shido’s fate, leaving that man as the sole perpetrator. No, he’d have to confess to his sins, too, to the judge, to Prosecutor Niijima. If Akira was confessing to all his crimes as a Phantom Thief, then the least Goro could do was to follow his example.

 

Be true to himself, huh? He had bared his soul to Akira back in the Palace, but neither Loki nor Robin Hood had reacted. But then again, even Joker, for all his ability to obtain new Personas, never had two born from him. And if evolution wasn’t the answer…

 

He turned to Lavenza. “I’d like to fuse these Persona.”

 

She smiled. “Understood.”

 

The fusion process was more gruesome than Goro had expected. Why had no one warned him about this? How many times had Akira done this?! But at the same time, it made a sort of sense. Kill your old self to create a new you.

 

The Persona that emerged surprised and relieved him. It wasn’t demonic, though it had horns and hooves resembling Loki’s, but ears that resembled Robin Hood’s wings. The rest was completely unlike either of them, the Persona looking like a young boy more than the muscular being that was Robin Hood, or the androgynous yet still adult Loki. He was dressed in leaves and bark and other natural adornments, and two large wings, like a beetle’s, buzzed behind him, keeping him in the air.

 

“Hee, so you’ve finally awakened me, huh?” he spoke, and Goro did _not_ jump, thank you very much. Neither Robin Hood nor Loki had spoken to him after their awakening, so this new Persona speaking made sense, but it had still surprised him. The voice was ever so different, yet somewhat familiar at the same time. “I am thou, thou art I. Thou who art willing to stand up against thy foes and change the world in thine image. Thou knowest my name.”

 

He did. He didn’t know how, as he had never seen them before, but he knew who this was, just as he had known the names of Robin Hood and Loki. “Puck.”

 

The fairy grinned. “Thou cannot summon me, but know that I shall be with you always, for I am thy mask. Or art thou _my_ mask?”

 

Goro could get used to this, though he was sure this would be the only time he saw his new Persona. Shakespeare’s Trickster, who played pranks and brought change, advancing the plot, but was not malicious and was unrelated to any apocalyptic events like Loki was. And yet, Puck never acted for the benefit of human society, unlike Robin Hood. Puck might not have been a hero, but he was not a villain either. And yet, Goro was not upset by this. If he were being truthful (and he had to be, here), the desire to be seen as a hero had waned. He still wished for recognition, but now, he wanted to do good for its own sake. Humanity was changing now, and he’d be there to help guide it along the right path. Even if he had to lie some more. Showing a fake face to the public didn’t bother him, and he didn’t think people were stupid for not noticing anymore. Of course they wouldn’t notice; he had tried very hard to keep that part hidden. But didn’t humans do that anyways? It wasn’t unusual, and it didn’t matter now that there were others that knew who he truly was.

 

And maybe… Maybe now he had a bit more confidence about confronting the other former Phantom Thieves.

 

Puck disappeared in a flash of light, rejoining with Goro’s soul. It was his Shadow, his Persona, and there was no need to keep him separate in this new world.

 

Igor’s slow applause drew him from his musings, and he looked up at the strange man. Not a god, not a devil, not a Shadow. He just _was_. The master of the Velvet Room. “Excellent, excellent! And now we come to the end of _your_ story, hm?”

 

Goro shook his head. “No, not yet. There’s still much to do, but soon.” By the smiles on both their faces, he knew that had been the right answer.

 

“And after that ends?” Lavenza’s voice was soft, but carried such weight.

 

“After that? I suppose I’ll start a new one. There is much I’d like to do.”

 

“Then our part in your story has ended as well.”

 

“Is the Velvet Room closing to me too?”

 

“Yes. You have awoken to your true Persona, and no longer require the use of this room.” She curtsied. “I wish you well on your journey, and know that you do not travel it alone.”

 

“I don’t, do I…?” He had friends, now. And could have even more, soon, if he used his newfound courage to do something about it.

 

“You have been a wonderful guest, Akechi Goro,” spoke Igor.

 

Goro bowed to the two of them. Had the Velvet Room not existed, he would have been dead ages ago. And it had been necessary in taking the next step to discover himself. He was…content. There was a flash of light and when he straightened up, the two had disappeared, leaving only an empty room behind. And soon, even that vanished, leaving only blackness behind.

 

That night, Goro dreamed of a butterfly, a crow, Morgana wearing a dog mask, and Kurusu Akira with a bindle.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember how Akechi refers to everyone so just have a bunch of random honorifics.
> 
> also INTRODUCING PUCK who will NEVER APPEAR AGAIN SORRY GUYS (for those wondering, Puck sounds like Akechi did as a child because REASONS)
> 
> I lied last chapter this is just chapter three IT STILL REQUIRES AN EPILOGUE
> 
>  
> 
> Next: WHO'S READY FOR THE BEACH GUYS


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was embarrassing. It was ridiculous. And it was the most fun Goro had had in his life.

“Are you _kidding_ me?!” Ryuji shouted, and Goro covered an ear with a hand. God but his voice was loud.

 

“Must you shout? And what is it that I have done _this_ time?”

 

“We’re gonna go to the beach today! You were supposed to wear somethin' casual!"

 

Goro looked down at his outfit, a blue argyle top with slacks and loafers. It was a far cry from business-appropriate, but this wasn’t casual enough?

 

Ann sighed. “One day, Akechi-kun, we are taking you _shopping_. And you’re going to _like it_.” Oh no. Why did that fill him with dread?

 

Futaba poked her head out of the open door of the van. “Come on, guys, we gotta pick up Haru! Let’s move it, Argyle! Here, you can sit by me.”

 

“Ar-Argyle…?”

 

“Sorry, man.” Ryuji patted his shoulder. “Once Futaba decides on a nickname, it’s stuck forever. Just ask Yusuke.”

 

Ah, right, Goro recalled her calling him ‘Inari,’ rather than Fox, though he had to admit, it was rather fitting. He took the seat next to her, letting Ryuji close the door behind him.

 

“Everyone buckled up?” Makoto called from the driver’s seat.

 

“Yeah, let’s go!” Futaba cheered.

 

“Sakamoto-kun, you do not have your seat belt on yet. There are traffic safety laws in place for-”

 

“Yeah yeah I got it, sheesh.” Once the seat belt clicked, Makoto started the car. It struggled for a few seconds, but eventually started.

 

“Niijima-kun, how old is this car?” Goro asked.

 

“About twenty, I think. Maybe thirty. It’s probably on its last legs, but it was the only thing that could fit all of us that was still in Sis’ new budget. And it’s an _import_!”

 

Ah, yes, Niijima Sae had quit her job as a prosecutor to become a defense lawyer. Goro felt a swell of pride that he’d been her first client. After confessing that he’d been a hitman for Shido at the man’s trial (as well as his illegitimate son; even if his father had a change of heart, he still wanted him to _suffer_ for what he’d done to Goro’s mother), he had been arrested. The media had a field day, his entire career had come under scrutiny, and the police force conducted an immediate investigation to weed out all corruption. Goro had been more than happy to provide information on who he knew was in whose pockets. Niijima had confided in him earlier about changing professions, and he figured now was the perfect time. He had enough money from his detective work to hire her (though that money wouldn’t last much longer; no one wanted to hire a killer detective), and at his trial, with help from Shido’s own confession, amusingly enough, she’d managed to prove that he committed murder under duress (partially true), and was immensely regretful (wholly true). His sentence was incredibly light (a testament to Niijima’s ability), and he was simply to make reparations with the victims’ families, as well as undergo a probationary period of one year. Goro could only feel amusement at the irony that his would begin at the same time Akira’s would end.

 

It had been a huge surprise to find the Phantom Thieves had not only sat through his trial, but were waiting for him at the end of it. He remembered standing there awkwardly before they’d practically pounced him, not hiding their excitement and joy that he was alive and demanding answers without giving him time to speak. Heh. And he’d been worried about how to confront them. Even Akira had been there, having been released a week before his trial, smiling and joining in and daring to muss up that perfect hair of his.

 

But then finals had rolled around, Goro, Makoto, and Haru had all graduated, and Akira was moving back to his parents’ house, which everyone but Goro was throwing a fit about. In fact, the former detective still didn’t understand.

 

“Why are you guys making such a big deal about Kurusu-kun leaving?” he asked the rest of the occupants in the car. Shocked faces met his own, which only doubled his confusion. “It’s not like he’s moving overseas. He’ll only be about two hours away by commuter train. We’ll easily be able to visit on weekends and holidays.”

 

“Dude. I don’t know about your school, but ours has Saturday classes.”

 

“It’s still a half day, is it not? And if I recall correctly, Kurusu-kun’s school does not have classes on Saturdays.”

 

“Really? Wait, how do you know that?”

 

Goro smirked. “I have done extensive research on the lot of you. You’d be surprised what I know that you might not want others to know.” Stunned silence. “For example, Sakamoto-kun-”

 

“AAAHHH DON’T SAY IT!”

 

“Wait, what? What was he going to say? Hey Akechi-kun, what were you going to say?”

 

“Yeah I wanna know too!”

 

“YOU GUYS STOP!”

 

“Alright you guys, knock it off back there, I’m trying to concentrate on driving. We can all make fun of Ryuji later.”

 

“WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!”

 

Laughter erupted in the cabin, and even Goro couldn’t help but join in with a chuckle of his own. Really, Ryuji made it _too_ easy.

 

“Hey, you’re all throwing this party for Akira, but what about _me_?” Morgana complained, leaping up onto the back of the seat. “ _I’m_ leaving too, you know!”

 

“Yeah yeah, we’ll miss you too, furball,” Futaba said, grabbing the cat’s cheeks.

 

“Ack no’ zhish ageen!”

 

Goro gave him an apologetic scratch behind the ear after Futaba released him. “Is it really so fun, doing that?” he asked her.

 

“Totally! You should give it a try sometime!”

 

He stared at Morgana, considering, and long enough to make the cat nervous enough to escape and hide underneath Makoto’s chair. “Don’t you dare!” he called out, though it hardly seemed a threat when one could only see the white muzzle poking out.

 

They laughed all the way to Haru’s, who of course wanted in on the joke, so of course they had to let her in on it. And when Akira and Yusuke finally joined them and their tail was spotted, Goro wondered out loud who they were there for.

 

“This is a van full of hardened criminals, after all,” Yusuke pointed out, and while it was true, it was somehow still amusing.

 

And then, for some reason, as they were driving down the seaside highway, Akira _stood up_ , opening the van’s sunroof, and _poked his head out. Why?_

 

“Oh my god, dude, you are too much!” Ryuji laughed, and began _cheering him on what the Hell was wrong with Sakamoto-kun_.

 

“Ooh, hey, take my phone and get some good shots while you’re up there, okay?” Futaba said, leaning over the back of the seat to hand her phone to the _crazy crazy teenager_.

 

“Akira,” Makoto began, tone scolding, “sit back down. I don’t want to get pulled over.” _Yes, thank you, Niijima, for being the only one in this car with sense_.

 

“Nnnope,” came the sing-song reply from above as, instead of sitting back down like he was supposed to, Akira leaned forward and _relaxed against the roof like it was some sort of counter_.

 

Goro had had enough. He leapt forward and grabbed at the boy, intent on _pulling_ him down if he had to. “ _Akira-kun oh my god what are you doing sit down before we get into an accident or pulled over do you know how many traffic safety laws you are breaking right now_ -”

 

“Ah, hey!” Akira protested, but was successfully pulled back into the safety of the cabin.

 

“Oooh, what did you call him???” Futaba prodded, and Goro felt the heat rise to his cheeks.

 

“Uh, Kurusu-kun…”

 

“No way, man, we all heard you call him by his given name, right, Yusuke?”

 

“That is correct.”

 

“Why’re you so embarrassed, Akechi? It’s just a name.”

 

“Of course _you_ wouldn’t know, Mona, you only have one name.”

 

“I don’t mind you calling me that, only if I get to call you Goro-kun,” Akira grinned at him and oh no this was so embarrassing. Why did he slip up like that??

 

“Oh, is Akechi-kun using given names now? You can call me Haru-chan!”

 

He swallowed, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “H-Haru…san.” He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t be that familiar with her, especially since she was one of the people he was supposed to be making reparations with.

 

“Close enough, Goro-kun!” Her switching over had been too fast!

 

“Goro.” He swiveled his head to look at Yusuke, and a look of betrayal washed over his face. _Not you too_!

 

Ryuji’s hand fell on his shoulder, startling him. “Hey, we’re all friends here, right? It’s weird for friends to call each other by their family name. What better time to start usin’ given names than now, right, Goro?”

 

“Right.” Ryuji was looking at him expectantly. Oh no. Oh _no_. “R…Ryu…ji…”

 

“Alright, alright, let’s leave Goro-kun alone.” _Traitor_! He shot Makoto a dirty look. She was supposed to be on _his_ side! “Besides, we’re here.”

 

“Yay! The beach!”

 

“I don’t know how you all expect to enjoy the beach when it is still _March_ ,” Goro said, eager to change the subject to _anything else_.

 

“Even if we can’t swim, we can still enjoy the surf. Ooh, and tide pools!”

 

“Oh yeah! Let’s look for crabs for dinner!”

 

“I don’t think you’ll find any crabs large enough to eat, Sakura-kun.”

 

“It’s Futaba!”

 

Oh no, not back to this. “Fu…taba…kun.”

 

“Geez you’re bad at this whole given name thing.”

 

_Hey!_

 

“I, for one, will be working on my tan,” Yusuke announced.  _What tan_ , Goro wondered at the same time Akira echoed his thoughts out loud. Brave soul. “I was unable to truly join in the festivities last summer since I was unused to being outside for long periods, so this year I will get an early start so that will not happen again.” That…made a disturbing amount of sense.

 

“I wonder what sort of swimsuit Goro-kun has…” Please stop with the given names he _wasn’t ready_.

 

“I bet it’s a thong. Guy like you wants to show of as much as you can, right?”

 

“It’s not a thong!”

 

“Tch. Damn.”

 

“Futaba!”

 

* * *

 

 

The side trip to the beach before dropping Akira off had been fun, but Goro had been right in that it was still far too cold to even attempt swimming. And why had Futaba been so disappointed in his normal-looking swimming trunks? That girl was _fourteen_.

 

Eventually, they had all climbed back into the van, cold and wet (those that avoided the ocean had the ocean brought to them – there was no escape), huddling under towels as Makoto blasted the heat. It was embarrassing. It was ridiculous. And it was the most fun Goro had had in his life.

 

“Can we…do this again sometime?” he ventured during a lull in conversation, and ducked his head as everyone turned their attention to him. “When it’s warmer and more like swimming weather, I mean.”

 

Akira turned to grin at him, and his mood was so infectious, Goro felt himself smiling back. “Of course!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is DONE. wow what a trip huh? (yuki it's only been a day) well whatever.
> 
> Goro’s thoughts for the final game scene echo my own: _Akira sit back down before you hurt yourself oh my god_  
>  And oops I promised beach but this was all that happened I’m so sorry orz
> 
> THANK YOU FOR ALL THE AMAZING COMMENTS AND KUDOS IN SUCH A SHORT TIME ILU GUYS <3
> 
> my ctrl key is dying send help


End file.
